But he stops what he’s doing and tilts up his dark broad-brimmed hat. “Okay, kid. What’s up?”
How should I word it?
I’m not even sure—
“Sawyer,” he growls. “Either ask, or I’m heading out. Spill it.”
“Why is Val afraid of a relationship?” I blurt out.
And immediately regret it when I watch his jaw clench and lips thin.
He takes a step closer and his finger comes up to jab me in the chest. “Why in the fuck are you asking about her? Her past isherbusiness.”
In the past, I’d back away.
I need to know.
“Because I care about her,” I admit quietly. “She’s keeping me at arm’s length and I don’t know why.”
All I’ve heard are vague mutterings, and Ford is usually mentioned too.
“Were you guys—” I swallow hard, hating the image that springs into my head. “—a thing?”
When he shakes his head, relief floods through me.
And confusion.
“Then why—”
Pain tightens the crow’s feet around his eyes. “Sawyer, I have a kid now. I’m trying not to live in the past.”
I guess I’m all in on this conversation. “But she’s my future.” I’m sure of it. “I want to know how to help her.”
His mouth and cheek curl as he squints at me. “You can’t be serious? You and her are like oil and fucking water, boy.”
He moves back to his horse, pulling the belly strap for the saddle under and cinching it tightly.
“Have your fun, but don’t expect white picket fences. Val’s had a shitty run, too,” he says against his gelding’s flanks. “I know you were young when Sarah—” He chokes on the name. “—died. But that night changed a lot of us.”
I know enough about it.
Sarah was Ford’s girlfriend. Her brutal murder was whispered about for years in school.
“I get why you’re upset. What does it have to do with Val?” There’s this gnawing need in my gut to find the answer.
I’d do anything to have her let me in.
“Sawyer,” he grits through his teeth. “Leave it.”
He sounds like he’s telling his dog to drop a bone.
I’m more determined.
My voice climbs in a mix of anger and frustration. “Please? How in the hell can I help her if—”
Ford spins so quickly he’s almost a blur. “Sarah was her best friend. Chris was herhusband. And he was part of the group of fucking monsters who killed Sarah!” His seething tirade finishes with him inches from me.
All of the pieces snap into place.
